


ravioli

by dinoburger



Category: Khonjin House (Web Series)
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, Other, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinoburger/pseuds/dinoburger
Summary: Gilmore shows Gino the extents of his strength. and mouth. apparently.(yes this is a serious vore fic. a same-size vore fic at that.)





	ravioli

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I've posted anything fetishy like this before. I've never written this type of vore before either but the folks on tumblr seemed to enjoy it.
> 
> it's pretty tame all things considered, it's soft vore and nobody ends up being digested.

“I just never really got it, ya know? There’s no way you can eat a whole person! It ain’t happening.” Gino scoffed, sitting beside Gilmore on the edge of the bed.

The boss looked him up and down, half mumbling under his moustache. “I could show you. Unless you’re a little bitch, that is.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of being eaten alive, Ravioli?”

“If it won’t happen, what have I got ta be afraid of?” Gino smirked.

“Alright.” The boss shifted towards him where he sat. “Take off your shoes.”

Bewildered, but still incredulous, the Italian did as he was told.

“Okay, now move back and lie down.” The boss instructed.

“Heh, you almost sound serious about this!” Gino commented, getting into position.

“Just hold still.” Gilmore had no humour in his tone nor expression.

Of course, nothing was going to happen. Human beings would struggle to fit something as large as a fist into their own mouths, let alone other people.

Hell, Gilmore’s mouth wasn’t even visible. Not that it was concealed by his stylish lip-warmer, but it didn’t seem to be there at all.

At least, there was no defined opening. It was just a soft, malleable area where one’s mouth ought to be.

In one slick motion, Gilmore ducked his head down and scooped up both of Gino’s bare feet in his sticky maw, engulfing them up to the ankle.

Gino’s grin fell and his eyebrows shot up.

There was no solid structure to interfere, no solid jaw, only a gooey cavity making it easy to slip inside.

Those dark eyes were fixed on his prey from under the brim of his purple hat, down the curve of his long nose. They remained on him as the boss slid his way up Gino’s legs, inching further and further. The shape of his head distorting slightly to accommodate, and he adjusted his position on the bed to get more leverage.

The molten flesh was sticky and hot through the fabric of Gino’s pants. The pressure of Gilmore’s body around him moved up his calves and to his thighs.

“Uhh…” Fratelli struggled to speak, both entranced and alarmed by this bizarre situation. “I, I’m… not so sure about this…”

“ _hrrrnnh._ ” Gilmore made an irritable sound through his nose and angled his body to shunt more of Gino inside of him.

The distortions to his body became worse as the thick of Gino’s thighs made their way in. The boss’s shirt grew tighter and strained terribly as his throat bulged and warped. His stare was unfaltering throughout it all.

The Italian gulped.

Gilmore still had the widest part of his prey to come – Gino’s belly. The goo of his mouth stretched and squeezed around him, the boss’s face flattening like a snake’s.

“Hhhohh ffuck…” the prey could feel his stomach trying to jump into his chest, heart racing. “Y-you know I’m… huh, having seconds thoughts about this…! P…point taken…!”

Gilmore glared, grumbling incoherently and continuing to swallow him down.

“I, I said you can stop! Aeugh!” he yelped.

Gil’s face was getting uncomfortably close to his own. Gino’s width was causing the fabric under his jacket to burst apart. He was in too far, with Gilmore almost up to his chest, the better part of the other heavy in his abdomen, his swollen belly exposed by a shirt that was barely holding together, splitting at the seams.

The boss sucked the last of him down, greasy hair and all. The weight of the man inside him made it hard to do so much as roll onto his side, the soft bed depressed around his bloated form. It was impossible to see his own legs from here.

“Oof…” he managed a constricted sigh, lungs pressed back by Gino’s girth.

The boss lay snug and full, panting shallow breaths.

He could feel Gino shivering. The Italian was breathing hard, but remained limp and heavy.

“S… settle down… You’ll be… just fine…” his words of reassurance were soft and choked, unlikely to be heard. “ _Heeehhhh_ … not… too long… I’ll… let you out…”

It took a while for Gino’s breathing to slow, enough for Gilmore to try to keep in time with it. Gino’s wide panicked eyes, unseeing, burning from his lightless confines, eventually squeezed shut.

“That’s it…” Gilmore breathed sleepily.

They stayed like that for a while.

* * *

“No hard feelings, fuckaccino. It’s just easier to spit someone out once they’re completely inside you.” Gilmore was sitting on the bed with an air of nonchalance, but his face was flushed and there were still beads of sweat on his forehead and gooey globs of flesh where his mouth should be.

His shirt was over-stretched and torn.

Gino didn’t say anything. He was sticky all over, his clothes were soaked through. His expression was disturbed.

“I need a shower.” Is the first that came out of him. His voice was hoarse.

“Be my guest.” Gilmore replied, with an unusual lack of mockery.

Gino didn’t question it.

* * *

Gino was very quiet when he got to the pizzeria the next day. A concerned spaghetti chef picked up on it.

“Gino, what’s a eating you up a?”

Gino grimaced at his choice of words, his arms folded on the front counter.

“I… was an accomplice in a crime against nature.” His hands clasped together, like a guilty man confessing his sins. “An atrocity against the laws of anatomy.” He stared ahead.

“What did a you do?” Spaggers asked.

“The boss… I… I let him vore me.”

Gino glanced at his employee, who was gaping at him.

“What?!” the chef blurted.

“Uh. Yup.” Gino answered flatly.

Gay Spaghetti takes a moment to find the words, still trying to be polite. “So, I’m a… I’m a guessing it wasn’t really a, your thing?”

“Well… it was something, that’s for sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Edit: I found a typo. also this is so incoherent this thing I can't stand to look at it good lordy lord)


End file.
